


A Duet for Making Love

by die_traumerei



Series: Bike Girls [11]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Female Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female Crowley (Good Omens), Gentle Sex, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sleepy Cuddles, Strap-Ons, Useless Lesbians, Vaginal Fingering, although for once there's no trip to a&e
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29244915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale prefer having sex in different ways, but are always happy to stretch themselves.(Porn with feelings and character development.)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Bike Girls [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997386
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	A Duet for Making Love

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads-up that this is really really really explicit, like from the jump. And it's pretty much just explicit sex, except for a bit where they're getting ready for explicit sex.   
> Possible CW: Aziraphale kind of...dirty-talks herself and it's pretty demeaning language, but she very obviously enjoys it and gets off on it.
> 
> (Also, unusually for these two, there is no trip to A&E nor intriguing disaster interlude. They're growing! Until the next time, anyway.)

“Augh!” Azriaphale moaned. “Oh, God, yes! Harder! Harder!”

She felt Crowley's hips snap and oh good _girl_ , she was really putting her back into it, the strap-on thrusting so deeply into her, and Aziraphale howled again, her arms giving out and leaving her ass up in the air, her cunny filled as her girlfriend pounded into her.

“Fuck yes,” Aziraphale growled, her voice raw. “Give it to me hard, hard, augh _yes_ , I love it!”

“Mother of God,” she sort of heard Crowley mumble, but she was still fucking Aziraphale through the bed, so Aziraphale wasn't going to complain, mostly because she was busy roaring into a pillow as the faux cock hit her in just the right spot, and she came. Again.

“More,” she moaned. “I can take it, more, more...”

“We are getting you a fucking machine,” Crowley said. “Christ.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale begged. She moaned when Crowley pulled out, and moaned again when her girlfriend shoved her onto her back, removed a nipple clamp, and sucked hard as sensation flooded back in, the pain sending her over the top, screaming into her hand. Wouldn't do to have the neighbours come knocking again, and Crowley was still getting used to the idea of the rubber bit stretching Aziraphale's mouth, silencing her, bad girl that she was, noisy slut who needed to be shut up.

(They were probably never going to achieve dirty talk, but Aziraphale could dirty talk  _herself_ , thank you very much, cumslut that she was, good for nothing but a hole that Crowley pounded into over and over yes yes, oh, so good,  _yes_ !)

Aziraphale shuddered and moaned and spread her legs, for Crowley was slipping into her again, fucking her face-to-face this time, and she'd got hold of one of the little vibrators, playing it over a bruised, swollen nipple, and then oh the  _tease_ , over the other that was still clamped, and then finally over her clit, even as she fucked into Aziraphale with steady rhythm.

“Yes,” Aziraphale whispered, her voice going. “God, yes, fuck me, make me yours, fuck me hard, Crowley, you're so good at this you're so _good_ , I feel so good fuck me, break my back, I just want to _feel_ you oh God, oh God...”

This last orgasm was pristine, painful, it hurt so good, the nipple clamp coming off in the middle and she screamed silently, vaguely aware she was definitely soaking the towel they'd put down with her squirting  _oh_ she felt amazing, the pain and the pleasure and no one had ever given it to her this good. Had she said that aloud? She hoped so.

Aziraphale moaned gently, and floated, not sure of anything other than pulsing pleasure overtaking the pain, quiet, no more yelling, no more cock inside of her but that was okay. She was full up anyway.

“Mmm.” She was smiling before she opened her eyes. Her nipples and her vulva burned deliciously, and Crowley was there, right there for her to roll over deeper into her arms. “I love you.”

“I love _you_.” She sounded amused – good. Hard sex was a lot of work for Crowley; they'd had to take this step by step, setting boundaries and experimenting, learning what was off-limits for her gentle, so gentle, beautiful girlfriend. (And learning just how good being fucked so hard she had bruises left _Aziraphale_ feeling.)

Aziraphale trickled a fingertip down Crowley's side, tracing her waist and the little swell of her hip, and reached blindly for a kiss. “You're the most amazing lover. I adore you. How are you?”

“In awe,” Crowley admitted. “You're _beautiful_ when you orgasm your brains out.”

Aziraphale giggled. “I feel beautiful. And special, and loved, and sore, and happy. All 'cause of you.”

“Are you _drunk_?” Crowley laughed, and Aziraphale finally opened her eyes, smiling like she'd never stop, meeting Crowley's beloved gaze.

“I'm so proud of you,” she said. “I know it doesn't come natural to you. I'm _so_ proud of you.”

“I don't get it,” Crowley admitted freely. “But I can't miss how happy it makes you. I'm a little proud of me, too.”

Aziraphale gave her a little squeeze. “You should be. Ooof, I can't feel my legs. God, I feel amazing.”

Crowley laughed out loud. “Are you sure I didn't fuck you so hard I broke your back, like you asked?”

“We have _got_ to work you up to wanting to gag me,” Aziraphale said happily. “Gosh.”

(Just to be on the safe side, she concentrated and successfully wiggled some toes. There was no telling, with the two of them, and it was best to check these things.)

Crowley just smiled proudly and stroked her hair and held her, the two of them sweet and cuddly, complimenting each other while Aziraphale slowly came back to earth.

“I mean it,” she said softly. “I know this takes work on your part. I appreciate it – I appreciate _you_ so much. I feel so, so good, Crowley.”

Crowley smiled and kissed her forehead. “I'm glad. I wish I understood it better, is all.” She laughed. “I know you'd like dirty talk, but Azi, there is literally no way I can look at that angelic face and call you a filthy cum-filled hole without just  _losing it_ laughing.”

“Well, when you say it like _that_...” Aziraphale was belly-laughing; God, Crowley was _bad_ at dirty talk. “It's because I have an angelic face, as you put it. Because I'm a sweet femme who likes Liberty prints and pink things, and I was raised in the church. The difference...” she wiggled happily. “Yummy, yummy, yummy. Almost as yummy as you.”

Crowley laughed and pressed kisses to her face. “I dunno, you're pretty yummy yourself, my sweet femme. Oh, Aziraphale, I love you.”

“You're nearly as silly as I am,” Aziraphale said, so happy to be snuggled up. She cupped one of Crowley's breasts in her hand and kissed the soft skin and the little, peaked nipple. “I love your breasts.”

“Thank you, but you're the winner in that department,” Crowley said, utterly charmed by her sweet, adorable, orgasm-drunk girlfriend. 

“You're very kind, but we are both winners,” Aziraphale said. “I like my breasts, but I think I like yours better, even.” Another kiss, so soft and warm, and Aziraphale nuzzled the space between Crowley's little breasts. “I like your whole body. No, wait, I love it.”

Crowley laughed and cuddled her, let Aziraphale feel her up and enjoyed it immensely, and felt her up in return, caressing her breasts, fretting over her sore vulva and the strain her thighs had been under. This was her favourite bit, when Aziraphale wanted, no  _needed_ tenderness and care, arnica cream rubbed into her bruises and a little massage to ease sore muscles. When Crowley got to be the person who reduced her to a screaming, sobbing mess, and then cuddled and loved her, was tender with her tiny hurts and gave her a place to feel safe and loved. It never, ever failed to floor her.

She made up a warm compress to press between Aziraphale's legs, and gave her water, and little good things to eat – bits of fresh coconut and orange slices and that kind of thing, all interspersed with kisses. Crowley fretted over whether the nipple clamps would leave bruises, and if Aziraphale's breasts were too tender for clothes. (Aziraphale declared that clothes were a tyranny and she wouldn't dress until the morrow, which Crowley was one  _hundred_ percent behind, even as she threw on a soft dress herself, skipping underwear but liking the feel of cotton on her skin, the little bit of warmth she did rather need. Besides, it had a wrap bodice, so Aziraphale could pop her breasts out whenever she liked, which was a lot.)

They cuddled and Crowley rubbed Aziraphale's legs, and they kissed and cuddled some more. Supper came and went in a haze of new wine and little nibbles, and the sun set sweetly over them, painting Aziraphale's skin golden while Crowley traced every stretch mark she could find and kissed her breasts. Suckling would hurt, but she lapped at Aziraphale's nipples and nuzzled the impossibly soft skin on the underside of her breasts, where they lay against her body. She helped Aziraphale stretch a little and wriggle and drink plenty of water to go with the wine.

They fell asleep early that night, both tuckered out from the intense sex and slow recovery, and slept, Aziraphale tucked safely in Crowley's arms, her little nose buried in the dent at the base of her throat.

Aziraphale kissed Crowley again, and once more, soft, tongue dipping into her mouth and tasting as Crowley moaned softly.

“My darling.” Aziraphale walked Crowley over to her bed and settled her against the pillows, smiling at her sweet girl. They were in her bedroom this time, so the sex had to be quiet what with her neighbour just downstairs, but that wasn't a hardship. This was a night just for Crowley, and she wasn't a screamer. More like hours upon hours of slow lovemaking, followed by sleeping very late the next morning, and waking up to the softest kisses Aziraphale had ever known.

Oh, it had been a wonderful evening. Crowley picking her up, looking sharp as could be in a suit that was tailored to her with knife-edge accuracy, Aziraphale in a lacy pink confection on her arm. They'd driven all the way to London, where Aziraphale had arranged for a very, very good dinner at a place just fancy enough they weren't out of place dressing up, but relaxed enough that they could have a wonderful time. Which they did – excellent food and a little drink, and a walk in Berkeley Square to finish it all off, drinking in the warm evening together and turning not a few heads. (Aziraphale was a bit shy about that part, but Crowley showed her off in style, and talked and teased so charmingly that she mostly could ignore being, well, noticeable.)

They drove home as the late summer night truly fell, and Aziraphale watched the sky change out of the car window, feeling sweet and wild as the landscape sped by and Crowley drove them back to her flat. And then it was her turn to fully take over, to turn to Crowley with a smile and lingering kiss, to offer her arm as they went inside and up to her little bedroom and settled her on the bed.

“May I undress you?” she asked.

Crowley smiled at her. “Only if you undress yourself at the same time.”

Aziraphale laughed, and kissed her hair. “I suppose that's fair, love. Is there anything special you want tonight? Anything at all.”

Crowley blushed and shook her head. “You're the creative one...”

“Hush. With _that_ tongue, and you think you aren't creative?” Aziraphale scolded. She started with Crowley's jacket first, neatly slipping it off of her shoulders and going so far as to put it on a hanger and then on a peg on the wall. As promised she kept up, and hung her wrap up as well.

Shoes were next for both of them; Crowley's polished brogues and socks and her own heeled sandals, setting them side-by-side out of the way and coming back to massage her girlfriend's feet, curling over to kiss the bend of each ankle, then squeezing, relieving any aches. She kept the foot massage soft and easy, though even then Crowley groaned when she hit a tight spot and eased it.

“Sweet girl,” Aziraphale said softly, settling Crowley's feet and leaning up and over, kissing her again, and again. “I could lose myself in you.”

“I wouldn't want that,” Crowley said, drawing Aziraphale into her arms, to lie atop her, caressing her arm. “I'd miss you too much. I love my angel too much.”

Aziraphale giggled softly, and kissed Crowley's throat, nuzzling at her collar. “Let's get you a little more naked. Both of us a little more naked.

Crowley wiggled with joy, and Aziraphale laughed and kissed her. The first time she'd done that, Aziraphale had wept, because who fucking gave their girlfriend stims like it was a cold?  _She_ did apparently, and there had been hugs and cuddles and lots of talking, and Aziraphale had worked to understand and Crowley had loved her and found the words, and now Aziraphale was only charmed and delighted. (And it  _did_ make things easier; she was getting a lot more respect for why Crowley liked  _her_ stims. Simple actions to indicate emotion just made things so nice! No guessing!)

She unfastened the collar chain Crowley wore and set it aside safely on her bedside table, but left her own necklace on. It was simple, a silver angel's wing on a thin chain, and of course Crowley had given it to her. It was nice against her bare skin, she always thought.

She unbuttoned Crowley's shirt, smiling down at her as Crowley tried to sneak her hand up Aziraphale's dress and caress her thigh, which was permitted even when she reached around and brushed her fingertips over the front of –

“Where's your panties?” Crowley asked sadly.

“ _Someone_ needs to know more fat girls,” Aziraphale teased. “I'm wearing shorts, of course. Otherwise it's like taking a cheese grater to the inside of my thighs.”

“Huh?”

Aziraphale laughed, and slipped Crowley's shirt off, urging her to sit up so she could pull it off entirely, leaving her girlfriend in only her bra from the waist up. It was a very, very pretty bra, all red lace and straps, and Aziraphale caressed it approvingly. Crowley's breasts were small and perfect, and she did look so lovely with her flat, lean body, her small breasts and wide shoulders, and Aziraphale leaned down to kiss appreciatively.

“My legs rub together when I walk, because my thighs are so big. I _chafe_ , you silly thing – badly. I'm not joking about the cheese grater, I've bled before, and it hurts.”

“Oh my God, Zira. I'm so sorry I teased.” Crowley sat up and hugged her. “You poor thing.”

“Yes, it's a terrible burden to bear when you have lovely thick thighs,” Aziraphale said, bemused. “I promise, I have pretty knickers on underneath them, just for you.”

“Ooooh.” Crowley turned her attention to Aziraphale's dress, untying the cord that laced up the front before Aziraphale could bat her hands away.

She was wearing a dirndl-style dress, and stood to neatly hang Crowley's shirt and, yes, unlace her dress. She was slow and careful about it, not intentionally stripping, but not  _not_ slowly revealing more of her chest, her bosom, the bra she was wearing. It was transparent white netting, and cut such that her breasts were just barely contained, and indeed one of her nipples popped out when she moved her arm.

“Oops,” she said innocently, and tucked it back in, her big areolas utterly un-contained by the wisp of fabric.

“Ngk,” Crowley said softly, and Aziraphale smiled at her, undid the zip in the back, and slipped off shorts and dress to reveal the matching panties; more white, see-through net. She had clipped her pubic hair short – enough that it was still there, but neat and groomed and not affecting the line of the knickers. Her bum was just barely covered, and she had to pull the waistband up over her belly and oh, there was a little tremble, because there _were_ folds to her belly and of course her big hips and thick thighs, but the way Crowley looked on her took her breath away.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said softly. “You _love_ me.”

This apparently stole the last of Crowley's words, as she just held her arms out and Aziraphale tumbled into them, lost in caressing and kissing. She somehow got Crowley's trousers off, and then it was just their bodies, still in lingerie for the moment but skin pressed to skin, kissing and caressing, Crowley's hands strong and steady on her thighs or squeezing her bum, kissing her breasts through the thin net while Aziraphale nuzzled and suckled so softly, kissed and licked and found that laving Crowley's nipples through the lace of her bra made her cry out softly and sweetly, arch her back and beg for more.

They managed to get each other quite naked before Aziraphale took charge again, fussing adorably over her girlfriend, insisting on a pillow under her hips and plenty more cradling her head and neck and shoulders as she straddled Crowley's thighs, hands soft and easy on her girl, and Crowley caressing her in return.

They kissed so much that Aziraphale sometimes thought that these nights, when they were soft and focused on her love, they could pass hours simply tasting each other's mouths and skin, exploring texture and sensation, what a nuzzle here or a kiss there could do. Good friend that she was, Crowley even bit her lightly, making Aziraphale moan and pause a moment in mapping Crowley's body, playing with her small breasts and making her way down her body until she lay between Crowley's legs, slender thighs over her shoulders and beheld one of her absolute favourite sights in the world.

Crowley's vulva was small, tucked away neatly underneath her labia, and Aziraphale was unbelievably charmed. Her own sex was full of baroque folds and drapes and she had a big clit, but Crowley's was all – well, to call it a walled garden was perhaps a  _little_ more Victorian than Aziraphale could really do, but it did call to mind similarities.

She was unspeakably gentle; her girl was so sensitive, and it was better to start slow and easy. She kissed Crowley's thighs, loving the soft, downy hair there, and kissed her pubic mound, nuzzling gently and making Crowley moan already. And then back to her labia, kissing  _them_ , soft and lovely and very, very gently parting them to show the soft, shy folds of her lady-love.

“You're _perfect_ ,” she reported, and kissed over Crowley's hole. “My God, you're so perfect. I love you so much.” More kisses, the very tip of her tongue just pressing in, a promise as she got Crowley warmed up, loving the tremors through the thighs on her shoulders.

Aziraphale took her time; well of course. There was no need to rush, and it wouldn't do anyway, not for  _her_ Crowley. Sometimes she used a gentle vibrator, and had considered the one that fit between her fingers, but Crowley liked the touch of skin the best, so it was only Aziraphale making love to her this time, simply skin on skin. 

Soft, easy kisses and licks, working her girlfriend up to moaning into a pillow, her thighs squeezing while Aziraphale lapped at her clit, two fingers working inside of Crowley. She was hardly moving, but lost in concentration, her entire focus on feeling her girlfriend quiver, and gasp, and moan.

Aziraphale felt dreamy and so calm, she didn't know her body could be easy like this, or her mind. There was nothing to do but gently pleasure Crowley, so that was all she did until her girlfriend's moans turned to a pained little gasp, and she patted Aziraphale's shoulder. That was enough, then; she was oversensitive, and Aziraphale pulled her wet mouth away, kissed the top of Crowley's thigh, and moved to lie instead beside her, gathering her close. Her lover was less orgasm-focused than Aziraphale was, but little matter; she was loose and liquid in Aziraphale's arms, moaning a little as she closed her legs and going into Aziraphale's embrace, tucking herself so close.

“There we are,” Aziraphale whispered. “There's my love, my darling, my heart. I have you. You're so safe. Are you happy, dearest?”

Crowley nodded.

“Good girl, that's all I want for my handsome lass.” Aziraphale stroked her back, reached down with her toes to grab the edge of a light summer quilt and pull it up and over them, keeping Crowley well-sheltered and cuddled. “Precious thing. Drift off, I won't move until you get up tomorrow.”

Crowley chuckled “Sure you wanna promise that?” she mumbled. “I sleep in, you don't.”

“Well, I'll sit up and read a book,” Aziraphale admitted, and grinned when Crowley shook with laughter. “But yes, I promise. I mean it. You're so soft and vulnerable. I won't leave you alone like this, Crowley.”

Crowley sighed, so deeply Aziraphale almost worried for her. “'nk you,” she mumbled. “L'yuh.”

“Love you too,” Aziraphale whispered, watching closely while Crowley dropped off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


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